The Highwayman
by Penybright
Summary: NEW! His face flushed crimson as he touched the silky strands, lifting them to his face. He inhaled deeply, the soft scent of lavender filling his senses. 1xR


~ Okay, Penybright has an angst bug that needs worked out so she can work on her other stuff. I've changed a few words in the poem, so it fits. I absolutely love this poem, and I always think of Heero and Relena when I read it. *shrugs* I dunno why... 

The poem is between ~*~ 

Warnings: Angst! This is a death fic. Be warned! 

Disclaimer: I own neither Gundam Wing, or the poem "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes. 

The Highwayman 

By: Penybright 

~*~ 

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding--  
Riding-- riding--  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door. 

~*~ 

Silence reigned over the darkened night. A full moon hung in the sky, its light illuminating the shadowed ground. The wind whispered softly; eerily through the trees lining the road. A large structure, shadowed and foreboding, loomed up into the sky. A structure of wood, metal, and glass stood of the side of the dirt road, its presence stark and knowing. The old inn kept its silent vigil through the dark hours; watching, waiting. 

In the distance, a shape topped the rise. Puffs of shimmering glitter followed in its wake before settling back to the road. As it neared, the distinct sound of hoof-beats could be heard. A horse and rider rode down the twisting road, their destination clear. 

~*~ 

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,  
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;  
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!  
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,  
His pistol butts a-twinkle,  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky. 

~*~ 

The young man astride his chestnut mount trained his eyes on his destination. Eyes the color of a stormy ocean peered through the moonlit night. At the inn, there was someone waiting for him; a beauty who had stolen his heart. He rushed to meet her, eager to see her shinning eyes and full red lips. One day, he would marry the lass who had managed to woo him; a man of few emotions. A rare smile danced on his lips, a smile that only she could coax from him. 

~*~ 

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;  
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's blue-eyed daughter,  
Relena, the landlord's daughter,  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long blond hair. 

~*~ 

Metal shoes struck the cobbles, a chiming song filling the air. The horse pranced beneath the window, whinnying. The rider tapped the shutters, but found his entrance blocked. Wetting his lips, he whistled a haunting tune and waited. The shutters slowly opened, revealing an angel from above. 

Warm blue eyes gazed lovingly at the man below her window. He removed his hat, revealing the untamable chocolate mass beneath. Intense Prussian eyes gazed warmly at her. He watched in fascination as her long, slender fingers nimbly braided the red ribbon into her golden locks. 

~*~ 

And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;  
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,  
But he loved the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,  
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-- 

~*~ 

Deep in the haunted shadows, a listener watched the two. Jealousy burned in his heart as he saw their affection for each other. Holding a baited breath, he listened intently. He watched the man who had stolen his love with hate filled eyes. Soon he would interfere no longer. The troublesome man would be no more, and Relena would finally be his. 

~*~ 

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight,  
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;  
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  
Then look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way." 

~*~ 

Heero whispered his plans to his lover, his eyes boring into hers. She listened without a protest, trusting him and his assurances. He always kept his promises. This would be no exception. She would wait for him eagerly at first light, hoping to be in his protective embrace. 

His eyes turned dark and serious as he whispered his last sentence solemnly. 

"I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way." 

~*~ 

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,  
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand  
As the blond cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;  
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,  
(Oh, sweet waves in the moonlight!)  
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West. 

~*~ 

Heero stood up in the stirrups, his hand reaching for hers. Their fingers barely brushed, and he gazed at her longingly. Relena saw his longing gaze, and swiftly undid her hair. The blond tresses came tumbling out the widow. The soft waves of gold fluttered down, coming to rest over his breast. 

His face flushed crimson as he touched the silky strands, lifting them to his face. He inhaled deeply, the soft scent of lavender filling his senses. Heero kissed the silken waves lightly before releasing them from his fingers. He loathed to leave her, but he had to go. He tugged on the reigns, and kneed his horse into a gallop, an ethereal cloud trailing behind him. 

~*~ 

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;  
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,  
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,  
A red-coat troop came marching--  
Marching-- marching--  
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door. 

~*~ 

The sky began to lighten, its darkness interspersed with rosy colors. Relena waited anxiously for her love to return. There was no sign of him as the sun rose into the sky. She waited through the day, but still he did not come. As dusk began to settle, her hopes were raised for a moment. A cloud of dust appeared on the rise, but their reunion was not meant to be. 

A troop of soldiers marched over the hill. Vibrant red coats declared King George's men. The faint glitter of metal betrayed their arms as they marched up to the door. Their faces stern and grim, they strode inside. 

~*~ 

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,  
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;  
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!  
There was death at every window;  
And hell at one dark window;  
For Relena could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride. 

~*~ 

The red-coats said not a word as they invaded the old inn. Upon finding Relena, they bound her to the post of her bed, rough hands shoving the gag into her mouth. She watched in trepidation as they settled themselves in her room. Two men knelt at her window, their muskets close at hand. 

Relena stared out the window, her soul filled with dread. Outside, the light darkened as the moon rose into the sky. He would be coming soon to see her, galloping over the rise. Tears misted her eyes as she thought of her love's death. It couldn't end this way... 

~*~ 

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;  
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!  
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.  
She heard the dead man say--  
Look for me by moonlight;  
Watch for me by moonlight;  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way! 

~*~ 

One of the men stepped closer, musket in his hand. The other approached with rope. They secured a musket beside her, all the while jeering at her expense. With venom they laughed at her, telling her to keep watch. 

Relena stood at attention, ignoring their crude remarks. In her mind his words whispered. His promise thundered in her ears. 

_"I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar they way."_

~*~ 

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!  
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!  
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,  
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,  
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,  
The tip of one figure touched it! The trigger at least was hers! 

~*~ 

Determination flashed in her glittering eyes. She wouldn't let them have him. He wouldn't die because of her! She began to twist her hands, the harsh rope sawing at her tender flesh. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she felt her wrist bleed. The blood made her struggled slick, and at last she accomplished her goal. 

On the stoke of midnight, the tip of her finger touched cold metal. In anxious terror, she waited. Her time was approaching. She would prove her love. 

~*~ 

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!  
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,  
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;  
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;  
Blank and bare in the moonlight;  
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain. 

~*~ 

Once the trigger was hers, she struggled no longer. She stood up tall and proud, her actions set firmly in her mind. She waited in silence, not daring to betray her accomplishment. The red-coats ignored her, waiting expectantly at her casement. 

Outside the night was calm and silent. The road lay placid and undisturbed. The stark moonlight illuminated the barren dirt, no magic found in its illumination that night. Relena's eyes watched wide and unblinking. She could her heart thundering in her ears. 

~*~ 

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;  
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?  
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,  
The highwayman came riding,  
Riding, riding!  
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still! 

~*~ 

Through the stagnate silence, the sound was unmistakable. Hoof-beats thudded in the distance, rapidly approaching. Over the crest of the hill, a rider galloped on, his destination unmistakable. The red-coats raised their muskets, watching their target grimly. 

Relena gasped in horror, wishing it were all a dream. She shifted herself slightly, standing up straight and proud. They would not catch their prey tonight. Clammy hands shook then steadied. She would not fail him now. 

~*~ 

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!  
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!  
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,  
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,  
Her musket shattered the moonlight,  
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death. 

~*~ 

The chill wind whipped at his face, but he did not notice its bite. He galloped on, unaware of the danger. Unaware that his death awaited him at his lover's window. In his mind he saw her smiling face, and he smiled softly at the mental image. 

Relena's eyes grew wide as she watched him approach unaware of the danger he faced. She gasped in a deep breath, praying that he would be all right, that he would turn away in time. A single tear escaped her vibrant eyes before she pulled the trigger. The silence shattered with the explosion of the musket, its cry echoing through the crisp air. 

~*~ 

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood  
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!  
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew gray to hear  
How Relena, the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's blue-eyed daughter,  
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. 

~*~ 

As soon as the shot was fired, Heero tugged sharply on the reigns. He spurred his horse to greater speed, the ground whisking by beneath him. In the inn, Relena stood slumped against her bedpost, fiery red blood pouring from her wound and coating the musket. 

It wasn't until morning, that he heard the awful truth. His love had died for him that night. His beloved Relena had waited for him, knowing he would come. His face grew pale and pallid as he mounted his chestnut mount. Cold furry filled his eyes, their Prussian blue now almost black. 

~*~ 

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,  
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!  
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,  
When they shot him down on the highway,  
Down like a dog on the highway,  
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat. 

~*~ 

Over the brow of the hill he galloped, screaming curses as he approached. The golden sun glared off his raised rapier as he bore down on the red-coat troop. They raised their muskets, aiming for his heart. Several shots were fired, and they were rewarded with a cry of pain. 

Heero picked his battered body up from the ground. Through the musket smoke he slipped, his rapier bringing a quick end to several red-coats. He collapsed to the ground as a volley of bullets hit him. His rapier clattered to the ground as his blood pooled around him. He lay on the highway, his life slowly seeping from him. On his last breath he uttered her name, his dying thoughts of her. And as he closed tired eyes, the scent of lavender surrounded him. 

~*~ 

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,  
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
A highwayman comes riding--  
Riding-- riding-- 

A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door. 

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,  
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;  
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's blue-eyed daughter,  
Relena, the landlord's daughter,  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long blond hair. 

~*~ 


End file.
